


What d'you say

by RaithnaitRouze



Series: Sky High Heroics [1]
Category: Sky High (2005), We Can Be Heroes (2020)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Marcus Moreno is a cinnamon roll, no beta we die like clone troopers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-25
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:47:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28969317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaithnaitRouze/pseuds/RaithnaitRouze
Summary: Prompt: Bloody and injured villain shows up at hero's house asking for help.Marcus Moreno comes home to an unexpected visitor from his past.
Relationships: Marcus Moreno/Warren Peace
Series: Sky High Heroics [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2124837
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	1. Chapter 1

“Marcus.” The graveled voice cut through the quiet night.

“Warren. Warren Peace.” Marcus Moreno said in quiet wonder as he immediately identified the man sprawled out on one of the chairs on his back patio. He carefully closed the door behind him.

“I thought you and your Eco-terrorist wife were down in Brazil?” He asked.

A grunt as Peace shifted in the chair. “Yeah, we liked it down there.”

Marcus took a step to the side and flicked on the porch lights.

Warren peace’s long black hair that hung down past his broad shoulders became illuminated under the yellow light. There were bruises on his face and under his dark eyes. He was staring intensely at Marcus. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be under that unnerving stare.

“What are you doing at my home Peace?” Marcus asked gruffly.

“You know that Layla and I got divorced right?”

Marcus signed. This was not how he wanted to spend his night off. Missy was hosting a sleepover at his mother’s house tonight. Which should have meant he was free to walk around the house in his underwear and watch TV that was inappropriate for a teenage girl. Not dealing with an international super-villain.

“That didn’t answer my question… You know what, I am not doing this. I’m calling headquarters.” He reached for the comm on his wrist but stopped at Peace’s voice.  
“I need your help. Please, Marcus.”

“What?” Marcus’s thoughts were completely derailed. Surely one of the most feared men on the planet hadn’t asked-

“Excuse me, I think I misheard you. Could you repeat that?.” Marcus said.

Peace chuckled. It sounded breathy, painful, and… wet.

“Are you hurt right now?” He strode up to the man’s crumpled form and jerked the dark fabric out of the way so he could see the black T-shirt that was glinted wetly in the light. He pressed his fingers against the fabric and his fingers came away red.

“Shit, you idiot. Why are you at my house, don't you have, like, people to deal with this, or like a kidnapped doctor to stash you somewhere.”

“Rude. I have never kidnapped a doctor before in my life.” Peace hissed out as Marcus continued prod at him.

“Shut up. What happened?”

“You know I can’t be quiet and answer your questions at the same time... You’re very demanding.” Peace flashes a smile full of white teeth up at him.

“Christ. I forgot how annoying you are.” Marcus said as he shoved the t-shirt up around Peace’s armpits.”

“See anything you like?” The flirty tone Peace was going for was ruined by his clenched jaw.

“No, where is all this blood coming from?” All Marcus could see were a couple of shallow cuts that had already been treated. Nothing that explains why the shirt was soaked through with blood. He froze as two pale and bloody hands wrapped around his own pinning them against Peace’s chest.

Marcus’ pulsed piked and his eyes darted back up to Peace’s. He knew his eyes were wide but couldn’t hide his reaction to the unexpected touch.

“Fucking calm down. I’m not going to bleed to death on your unfortunate excuse for furniture. Alright?” Peace squeezed his hands, his slightly heavy brows raised in question.

Marcus felt heat flood his cheeks in embarrassment. He felt wrong-footed again. Tonight it felt like all his reactions were off and his mind kept stuttering to a halt.

“What,-” he licked his lips to wet them and watched Peace’s dark eyes tract the movement. He decided to ignore that for now. “What then is going on?”

Peace squeezed his hands once more then released them before heaving his body into a more upright position. He hissed out a pain-filled breath.

“See that, right there, you’re definitely hurt.” He realized his hands were fluttering uselessly over the other man. 

He made a face at himself then pressed his hands against his thighs. He took them away almost at once but saw that blood had already spread into the jeans. He signed and made another face. He looked up at Peace and blushed under the amused stare.

Marcus sighed in resignation and pulled out one of the other metal chairs. He calmed his racing thoughts as he sunk down into the chair and regarded his unexpected late-night companion. He mulled over what he knew; what he could guess.

“You said you needed my help, but you don’t want to go to the Heroics… and you must be fairly confident or desperate to just show up at my house injured.” Marcus mused out loud.

Peace shifted uncomfortably before him and it was his turn to sigh, running his hands, which Marcus noticed were surprisingly clean, over his face and into the long black hair. He watched the other man as he tied his hair back into a top knot before leaning forward slightly with a grimace.

“I hear that your kids joined the Heroics’ program?” Peace finally asked.

“Yes?”

“Yes, well.” He scrubbed a hand across his jaw, before scratching behind his ear. His nose and eyes pinched together as he brought one of his hands forward and see-sawed it side to side. “I-, I need to-.” He huffed and shook his head. Making Marcus think he wasn’t the only one having trouble getting his thoughts in order tonight. “Can you watch my kids for a while. Maybe train them alongside yours or something.” 

“What?” For the second time that night all Marcus could do was blink in confusion. “You want me to watch your kids for you. Why me.”

A flash of white teeth and-

“You’re one of the good guys. You’re the hero, Marcus.” He emphasized the.

“Shit.” Marcus went to rub at his glasses before remembering that his hands were bloody. “Shit.” He repeated with heartfelt sincerity.

“So, how does this,” Marcus gestured over Peace and his injuries, “factor into your request?”

“Ah, yes.” Peace pressed his fingers slightly into his thigh. His lips thinned as he rode through the pain the actions caused.

“As it happens, Marcus, there are far worse people out there then me.” He said bitterly.

Marcus watched him dig his thumb into the wound that lay under his clothes and resisted the temptation to pull his hand away.

“Look Peace, I am not going to deal with vague threats. By all rights I should have arrested you the second I laid eyes on you. So you are going to have to give me something.” Marcus said, never taking his eyes off Peace.

“After Will died, Layla, she didn’t take it well. She started taking things personally: every success, every failure. She started pushing harder, you know letting things slide that she maybe shouldn't have. Letting means justify the ends. She decided she wouldn’t fail, she wouldn’t lose anymore: no matter the cost. Her gref consumed her to the point where I can't recognize my best friend” Grief dripped from his voice.

Marcus’ chest aches in sympathy.

“I never set out to be a hero, even being friends with Will Stronghold couldn't really change that, but the people Layla has gotten involved with now. Well let's just say it wasn't tenable for the kids to stay in the situation any longer. They need somewhere safe to go. So here I am.” 

“And you- what, decided to single-handedly go after a good of super villains while I babysit your kids… You know, I honestly didn’t even know you had kids?”  
Peace glanced away for the first time that night.

“So first off there’s Stevie’s, he’s Will and Layla’s; he’s eleven. Hua is mine, she’s three. Layla and Stevie came to live with me after Will passed. I adopted Stevie when he was 7 after Layla and I got married. We got divorced last year but she- well lets just say we didn’t get very far. If she finds out where I took the kids she will come and she will destroy everything in her wake.” 

His dark eyes bored into mine, pain, grief, fear swirling in their depths.

“Okay.” Marcus agreed. He understood: this was serious, he was listening.

“I got a plan. I’m not going alone, and I need my kids safe. So that means here. I need you Marcus. I need you to protect my kids, because I can’t.”

Marcus sat for a moment warring with himself. On one hand he understood where Peace was coming from: as both a father and a man trying to do the right thing. But he wasn’t just Marcos Moreno he was a Heroic, the team leader he had a duty to protect the people it was his job his responsibility.

He tried to remember if any chatter had come across his desk recently that would hint at something big enough and horrible enough for Peace to steal his children and go to battle with their mother.

Since the Takeover his role in the Heroics had once again changed. He was team leader alongside his daughter but he had also stepped up and with Invisi Girl they had taken over what used to be Ms. Granada’s position. So he had dealt with a lot more of the administrative side of the Heroics and Invisi Girl the politics.

There had been rumors, but only fleeting things of an underground movement: nothing concrete, not even anything they could actually investigate. They would be unable to do anything about this threat until they got more information, or they attacked and people died. He guessed he didn’t really have much of a choice to make.

“I assume you won’t give me any information on what this new group plans on doing. Maybe even a name they call themselves?” He asked.

Peace said nothing just slowly shifted to his feet. It probably hurt a lot even if he very pointedly didn’t wince.

Marcus stood as well, hand hovering under Peace’s elbow just in case. Peace shot him a grin. This one was soft and fond. It changed his features and Marcus had never seen anything like it on the man’s face before. He was probably staring.

Peace swayed forward and Marcus grabbed his elbow and waist to keep him from falling. Only to freeze when Peace brought up his other hand and cupped his chin.  
Eyes wide and confused, Marcus looked up into Peace’s face. He was somehow smiling without his mouth; all soft in his eyes and… fond. A thumb swept across Marcus’s jaw, sending a jolt through him as it pressed over his lips; he gasped. Peace’s grin was back, spreading slowly across his face. He quirked a thick brow in question and Marcus didn’t know... This was so far out of his expectations, he felt like he was dreaming, even as Peace’s head dipped down and his warm lips brushed across Marcus’ own.  
Fire shot through him. He made a noise that Peace swallowed, then tilted his head pulling Marcus in deeper. He didn’t remember deciding to respond to the kiss but he was pressing back moving against Peace. A tongue swiped his lower lip and he moaned pulling Peace against him. Which causes Peace to break away and hiss in pain.

Shit, injuries.

“Shit, sorry. Are you okay.” He blushed at how low and breathy his voice came out and Peace… his eyes were back open: wrinkled slightly in pain but still smiling.

“Yeah, no worries.” His voice too was slightly lower. Peace pressed against him again and adrenaline raced through Marcus’s body for a second before he realized Peace was moving passed him, around him and towards the door.

“Warren wait.” Marcus called.

He turned around amused.

Marcus blushed again and made himself push away the memories of warm lips.

“That’s what it takes to get you to use my first name.” His head was tilted slightly to the side, like a puppy; a happy, very large, bleeding, and dangerous puppy that could set things on fire.

“Where are the kids?” Marcus forced himself to ask.

“Inside.” He gestured towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms.

Marcus turned to look through the window into the house.

“What? They’ve been here the whole time? Warren?”

He turned but Warren Peace was gone. Only a tingle against his lips and bloodstains on his chair proof of his visit.

Marcus shook his head and went inside. He made his way towards the bedroom and discovered two little bundles asleep in his bed. There were bags on the floor.

Marcus leaned against the door looking at his two new charges and wondering how he was going to make this work. He was definitely not wondering how long Warren Peace and wanted to kiss him or whether he would get the opportunity to again. Those were dangerous thoughts and he was mostly retired from the danger business. Semi-retired. Partially retired. It wasn’t like he jumped head first into danger regularly. Only twice last week, pinkie-swear.

He sighed at himself then cursed quietly when he realized he had gotten blood on his glasses. He turned to the hall bathroom. He was so screwed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missy has an opinion about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, I am easily swayed: here's another chapter. Thanks for the comments.

“What are you doing with my dad?” Missy Moreno’s adolescent little voice comes from his elbow causing him to jerk and almost spill the shredded beef onto the stove. He hadn’t heard he sneak in from outside.

“We’re having dinner together, which is why you are at my house pipsqueak.” Warren said glancing down to watch her scowl at the nickname with amusement. She was as easy to rile up as Marcus.

“That is not what I meant,” she crosses her arms to emphasize her glower, it’s utterly adorable and he’s tempted to tell her just to see her reaction, “You’re around all the time looking at him.” She says pointedly, almost like it’s a bad word.

He doesn’t bother holding in his laugh. She shifts her feet and cranes her neck, trying to figure out how to look more intimidating.

“It’s part of the terms for my pardon. Your dad is my new hero-babysitter to make sure I don’t go back to my nefarious ways.” His tone isn’t bitter, it’s light and relaxed. He has no desire to take out the shittyness of his life out on a pre-teen. 

“That doesn’t explain why you're the one making eyes,” she does air quotes, “at him. I want to know your intentions.” She states

He blinks at her.

“Did you really just ask my intentions? You’re adorable.” He grins down at her and is delighted by the sheer outrage that crosses her face, she looked about two seconds away from kicking him. He threw his head back and guffawed. She shrieked in outrage.

“I am NOT! I’m being serious right now! Stop Laughing!” She did kick him, right on his ankle.

He cursed hopping away.

“Jesus you're a violent little gremlin aren’t you.”

She put her hands on her hips and tossed her hair over her shoulder. It was her team leader pose.

“Now, I think we need to have a serious discussion.”

“What? Why, what's going on here?” 

THey both turned to look at the entrance to the kitchen where Marcus stood looking faintly alarmed between the two of them.

Missy’s eyes were wide in surprise, she glanced at him. He smirked down on her. She was the one that wanted the conversation, he wasn’t going to help her out now. He might be a reformed villain but that didn’t mean he was suddenly nice. 

She looked like she wanted to kick him again.

“Nothing dad, I was just telling him that he has horrible taste, in food, obviously.” Missy says.

Marcus walked forward and peered into the pan and took in the soft tortilla, shredded lettuce, limes, tomatoes and cheese before turning to his daughter looking confused. It was a good look on him.

“You don’t like shredded beef tacos anymore?” 

Missy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and she peered at the countertop taking in what was for dinner for the first time. 

“Oh- uh. No? I meant that he didn’t get- uh... cilantro which is, you know, obviously the best.” She tries to recover, and very unsubtly kicks his ankle again. He scowls down at her and takes a step out of her reach.

“Yea, cilantro is the worse it makes everything taste like moldy dirt.” He says.

She gasps in actual outrage, when she realizes he’s being serious. She was really terrible at subterfuge. 

She whips her head back around to her father.

“See. See he’s a very questionable person, with very questionable tastes.” She’s pointing her finger up at him. Looking beseechingly up at Marcus.

He looks down at his daughter bemused.

“I didn’t realize you felt so passionate about spices. I will make sure to bring some over next time. Alright?” He asks her in that quiet, calm voice he uses with everyone. “Why don’t you go grab Stevie and Hua since it looks like food is almost ready.”

She sighs at her father, sends a glare at Warren and stomps off to the backyard.

“Do you want to tell me what that was really about.” Marcus asks and Warren is surprised to find he had come around the counter and was now close, very close. Warren looked at Marcus. He was frowning slightly, his eyes worried not angry. 

His stomach swooped and he clenched his hands at his side to keep from reaching out. He still didn’t understand how this man could treat him so well. He never looked at Warren with fear, anger or disgust. Warren was a known supervillain and he had no compunction about leaving his kid here with him as he ran back to his house down the street for some wine that he claimed was a must have dinner essential if Missy and Stevie were together.

Warren wanted to be angry. Wanted to shout about how stupid and naive Marcus was to trust him. He wanted to grab him and shake him by the shoulders if only he would stop causing these feelings that were trying to drown him. He also wanted the man to never stop. Warren wanted to be worthy of his regard. 

He looked away, reaching to brush his hair out of his face before he realized that it was pulled back while he was cooking.

“Nothing, she just unsettled having a villain around all the time. It’s really not-” He froze when a hand cupped his jaw turning his head so he was looking at Marcus’ concerned face.

“Hey,” his eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled softly at Warren. Who could barely breathe under the sweet regard. Marcus swiped a thumb across his cheek leaving a trail of fire in its wake. “I don’t think that's it. I know my daughter and she doesn’t kick people she’s afraid of.” 

Warren can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes his mouth. He cringes slightly embarrassed.

“Isn’t that exactly what she does?” he retorts, because he’s good at wordplay.

It was Marcus’ turn to laugh and grin fondly at Warren. Which causes warmth to spread though his chest. He was being a fucking idiot, like a dumb kid.

“I suppose that’s true.” Marcus took a step closer till their chests were brushing together. “But she likes you.”

“I really don’t think that's true.” He states thinking over their conversation, the distrustful looks.

“She is just protective of me, worried about me getting back in the dating scene, although she was the one pushing me to not but a few months ago.” He rolled his eyes in fond exasperation at his daughter's antics.

“Marcus.” Warren said, unsure. He was hesitant. He wanted the other man, wanted his smiles, laughter and conversation. Warren enjoyed his company immensely, he always felt more grounded and relaxed after being around Marcus. And he wanted to kiss him again, feel his facial hair scrap against his jaw, his neck. Warren wanted to taste him, see how far the blush traveled, watch him shatter and lose control while gasping for Warren. But he also knew that he came with a shit tone of baggage, and Marcus wasn’t some guy off the street he was the fucking leader of the Heroics, every person knew his name, knew his story and they loved him for it. Warren had always been on the outside, and yet it was apparent that he had a thing for the grade-A genuine good guys.

“I’m not going to suddenly change my mind Warren. I know what I’m doing and despite what everyone seems to think; I am a fully capable adult, able and willing to make my own decisions.” Marcus says, his thumb stroking Warren’s cheek again.

“I’m not nice. I wasn’t nice when I was with Will and Layla and the motley crew, I’m not going to suddenly be nice now. I understand why my life is one big joke right now, outside of my kids and you, but it still chaffs and I’m not going to suddenly become happy to be on house arrest under the scrutiny of judgment of people that have doubted me all my life.”

Marcus’ other hand came and cradled his face, pulling Warren gently forward and pressed his lips into a soft kiss. Then another and another until Warren closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his hips, one of his hands rucking up the back of marcus’ shirt pulling him taut against himself.

He took control of the kiss, deepening it, pressing forward into Marcus' mouth drawing a moan from the other man.

“Eww Gross!”

“DAD!”

Echoed into the kitchen breaking the two apart. Warren leaned back loosening his grip but not letting go as he turned to face their audience. Stevie was grimacing, paused in the motion of pushing his blonde hair back out of his face. Missy was outraged and horrified looking between the two men.

“Missy,” Marcus sighed out and turned himself out of Warren’s arms so he could face her. 

“I thought you wanted to know my intentions for you old man?” Warren interrupted and pressed forward leaning against Marcus' solid back, resting his chin on Marcus' shoulder.

She spluttered, gapping at a loss for words. Warren grinned at her, wiggling his eyebrow theatrically.

She growled at him pointing her finger threateningly.

Marcus sighed. “Really, the both of you need to chill. Honestly.” He turned, forcing Warren to stand straight or fall over, but instead of moving away he pressed a kiss to Warren’s jaw below his ear. 

Warren smiled back at him and raised an eyebrow in question. So we’re doing this. Marcus' return smile was happy and soft. So he guessed they were.

“Ugh that’s so gross and mushy.” Stevie complained, very purposefully turned away from them.

“I f’ink it’s cute!” Hua exclaimed

Warren grins at her. 

“allright , let’s eat.” Marcus calls clapping his hands together and starts directing the chaos that wrangling three kids to the dinner table with food entails. Warren watches from where he’s leaning against the kitchen counter. Tomorrow might be another long day of him sitting at home with Hua as the world goes on outside his door, but for right now it feels like enough.

Marcus hip checks him. “Are you going to help or what?”

“I thought I would just stand here looking pretty.” Warren teases.

“Well you can do that and help.” He says, blushing slightly as he makes eye contact with Warren and smiles a little tentatively.

Warren grins back, steps forward, wraps a hand around Marcus' waist and asks, “What do you want me to do?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't going to post this yet I think it needs some editing, but after posting Standing By The Wall, I was in desperate need for some happy fluff.

**Author's Note:**

> My head cannon is that Marcus is obsessed with cop dramas. As a superhero he is fascinated by the lives and mysteries of everyday normal people.
> 
> I think I have an idea for a second part if anybody is interested; let me know.
> 
> I really just wanted an excuse to write a Hero-Villain interaction.  
> Hate it? Love it? Leave me a comment.


End file.
